


In The Lap Of...

by Morpheus626



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:55:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26639179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: So, y’all know that video of the lads playing with each other’s instruments, and Freddie ends up behind the drums?Well, I thought what if Roger ended up on his lap, and then this fic happened.
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	In The Lap Of...

**Author's Note:**

> Fun thing I learned in researching this fic: the seat behind the drum is called the throne! Ngl, I kind of love that.

“Then you come over here and play them!” 

For once, no horribly serious work was being done. They were in a space where they could rehearse, yes, but so far the majority of the time had been spent like this. 

Mucking about with each other’s instruments, playing with the occasional new song idea, but otherwise, nothing overly productive, and for today, that was okay. 

Freddie had finally landed at the drums, bearing Roger’s sweet but not overly useful critiques, hence his demand. 

And Roger did waltz over at his call, and Freddie started to move off the throne to cede it to him. 

Before he could, Roger sat squarely in his lap. 

“What on earth are you doing?” 

“You said, come over and play,” Roger smirked, snagging the drumsticks from Freddie’s hands. “So here I am.” 

“I think you’re well aware this is not what I meant,” Freddie said, even as he slid his arms to rest around Roger’s waist. 

“Careful you don’t tip over,” John warned, wincing at the slight groan of the throne as they both adjusted. 

“Rude,” Roger scolded. “There’s plenty of room for both of us on this.” 

Freddie’s thighs were actually going slightly numb from how awkward it was to be sat together like that on a piece of equipment that was not designed for more than one, but he wasn’t going to let Roger know that if he could help it. Despite that, it was nice, leaning forward just a bit to rest his head against Roger’s back. 

“We ought to play shows like this,” Freddie said. “We could put you front and center, Rog.” 

“And backwards, so they could see you,” Roger added. 

“No,” Freddie protested. “They’d be fine seeing both of us like this.” 

“Are they stuck?” Brian asked, wandering into the room with a half-eaten sandwich in hand. 

“Where did you get that?” John asked as he shook his head in reply. 

“I made it,” Brian said. “Are they hurt at all?” 

“No,” John said. “You didn’t make me one?” 

“I didn’t know you were hungry,” Brian replied, exasperated. 

“We’re fine, thank you,” Freddie called over. “Testing out an idea for the next show.” 

Brian looked at John. “Doesn’t mean I have to carry him, or be in his lap, right?” 

“You’ve already bitched about ‘carrying’ shows...” John hissed under his breath. 

“Not this shit again, I was talking about one part of one song only, and I was just venting, but you-” 

“Well, that’s what you made it sound like, like you’re carrying the whole damned show, and-” John interrupted, taking the last few steps to get in Brian’s face as best he could. 

“Children!” Freddie interrupted himself, then sighed as Brian and John completely ignored him. “Roger, be a love, throw a stick at them so they don’t tackle each other?” 

Roger nodded, then laughed as he tossed not one, but both sticks at Brian and John, sending them dodging. “See! That’s what you get! Now make up and play nicely with each other.” 

“You say that, and boss us about,” Brian scoffed. “As if you won’t start whining when I play ‘too slow’, even when I’m playing perfectly fine-” 

“Whatever you say, you turtle,” Roger teased, his tongue stuck out at Brian. 

“Not helping,” Freddie whispered to him, and pinched his side ever so lightly. 

“Hey!” Roger almost squeaked. “You be nice too, or I’ll kick you off of here.” 

“And how do you intend to do that, with me underneath you?” Freddie grinned. 

“I have my ways,” Roger flipped himself round as quickly as he could manage, so he was facing Freddie. 

“I think this might have the opposite effect,” Freddie smiled, letting his hands slip from Roger’s waist down to his hips, fingertips teasing for a brief moment at the waistband of Roger’s jeans. 

“Oh, get a fucking room,” John laughed with a shake of his head. 

“We’re in one!” Roger protested.

“Not what you meant,” Brian mused. “But he’s got you there.” 

“We’ll lock the door,” John sighed, following Brian out of the room. 

“It’s not all bad,” Brian said as they left. “I made tea.” 

“Is it cold?” 

Brian gave a frustrated sigh. “You would have to ask that...” 

It was the last thing they heard as the now-locked door to the rehearsal space shut behind their bandmates. 

“Took you so damned long to call me over,” Roger muttered, carefully yanking Freddie’s shirt off of him. “Absolutely killing, sitting there, waiting...” 

“You like me behind these?” 

Roger kissed him hard enough it felt it might bruise, and he took that to be a strong ‘yes’ as he worked to unbutton Roger’s jeans. 

“What do you think they’ll tell the producer we’re up to in here?” Roger asked with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“I would think Brian might make something up,” Freddie said, slightly breathless at the feeling of Roger’s hands as they roamed over his skin. “But he seems to be in a mood today, so they’ll probably both say it outright, that we’re fucking.” 

Roger nodded. “Fussy today, aren’t they?” 

“No more than usual,” Freddie replied. “You know they’re out in the next room, or the kitchen, commiserating over how irritating it is that we just had to fuck in here.” 

“We did have to though,” Roger smiled, standing to yank off his jeans and to let Freddie up and out of his. “Be too much work to drag the whole kit into a different room so we could fuck behind it, on it, however we manage this.” 

And that was the question, now. They had lube and condoms (”Why hidden near the timpani, Rog?” “Why not?”), their clothes off and on the floor, and each other, but getting down to it comfortably and with minimal risk to the drums was the biggest concern. 

“Move the cymbals,” Roger instructed as he leaned gently against the drums, testing his weight on them. “I’ll smack my head otherwise.” 

“You don’t want to let the others know when you come? I think they’d appreciate it, sort of a dinner bell, letting them know they can come back in...” 

Roger laughed as he watched Freddie move the cymbals away, as well as the throne. “We’d still be naked and in the middle of it, I don’t think they’d much appreciate rushing in here to see that.” 

“They don’t know what they’re missing out on,” Freddie said, and tossed the lube to Roger after putting on the condom and slicking up his cock. “Especially now.” 

It wasn’t just the fact that it was an incredibly intimate thing being done in a space aside from their bedroom, or that Roger loved to tease him by whining as if he couldn’t bear another moment without being touched (while refusing to let Freddie get in more than a quick grope.) There was something added to it, with Roger working himself open, leaning carefully back against the drum set. 

It made it hard to take any of it slowly, which was how he ended up on his knees in front of Roger, mouth open and tongue out as obscenely as he could make it look. 

“You’re something else,” Roger smiled, and paused his work to stand so Freddie could suck his cock. He wound a hand gently into Freddie’s curls. “I thought this would be a quick fuck, and here you are, spoiling me.” 

He hummed his agreement around Roger’s cock, and smiled inside at the moan it earned him. 

“Still,” Roger managed after another few moments. “Don’t want to keep them waiting too long.” 

“You can admit you can’t wait any longer for it,” Freddie smirked, standing as Roger turned and bent himself over a few of the drums. “Be careful now, I don’t want to push them over, and you with them.” 

“You going to fuck me that hard?” Roger teased, leaning back to give him a quick kiss as Freddie slipped inside him. 

“I would tell you yes,” Freddie replied, resisting the urge to move, instead staying as still as possible until Roger started to whine. “But they are fairly expensive to replace-” 

“As am I,” Roger interrupted with a happy sigh as Freddie finally moved his hips. 

“As are you,” Freddie agreed. “We could make up for it later tonight? We’ve got the day off tomorrow. Could take turns tonight with each other, leaving marks, making each other sore, wearing each other out...” 

Roger was able to give him a nod, but not much more in the moment, rightfully focused on the moment itself. 

The door handle rattled once, and he took it as a sign of ‘hurry the fuck up.’ Though whether it had come from Brian, John, the producer or all three was a mystery. 

That was fine though, because holding out any longer wasn’t going to happen anyway. 

Roger leaned up and back, and the change in angle was enough to leave him shuddering hard, fingers grasping Roger’s hips tightly, cock pulsing. 

Roger was right behind him, coming hard onto one of the drums with a loud whine. 

They paused for a moment right after, and looked at each other. 

“Interesting,” Roger said, slightly out of breath. “Not a loud noise, but-” 

“Different,” Freddie agreed. “You don’t think, if we asked John and Brian, they would let us use it...” 

He slipped out of Roger, arms still holding him loosely about the hips, and they considered it for a moment before breaking into giggles. 

“Can you imagine?” Freddie laughed. “Telling them we need to record one of us...” 

“God and all over a drum too, for how many takes,” Roger added. “As it is, I wonder how much damage that is to it...I should clean that right away, probably.” 

Freddie nodded, and gave Roger one last lingering, sweet kiss before letting him go. “You clean yourself and the drum, I’ll clean myself up, and then we’ll tell them they can come back in here?” 

“Yeah,” Roger replied. “As it is, wonder how much they heard.” 

“We heard enough!” John’s voice, slightly muted, came through the door, and they were in stitches again. 

“We’d best hurry,” Freddie smiled, but he didn’t rush off when Roger reached for him again, for another kiss. 

That settled it. They would definitely have to make up for it that night. And pity their neighbors, and the even-less-soundproofed walls of their flat. 


End file.
